


you can't hide on the inside

by gottalovev



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Community: picfor1000, Gen, Paranoia, Protective Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3216311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottalovev/pseuds/gottalovev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shadow moves just out of sight and it makes the hair on the back of Stiles' neck stand up on end. He glances back, but there is nothing. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can't hide on the inside

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: if the tags are worrisome, there are more details in the end notes. The picture used as a prompt, linked below, is pretty dark, too. Read/look at the picture with your self care in mind, please.
> 
> Written for [picfor1000](http://picfor1000.livejournal.com), where I had to write exactly 1000 words inspired by a TERRIFIC [picture prompt](http://www.flickr.com/photos/15580898@N02/3543549383) (thanks mods!)

A shadow moves just out of sight and it makes the hair on the back of Stiles' neck stand up on end. He glances back, but there is nothing. Again.

"You've been doing that a lot," Derek says, making Stiles jump up in surprise at his voice. They've been walking in silence on the side of the road, going back to Stiles' Jeep. 

"What?" 

"Turning around. Being suspicious," Derek says. 

It's true, but Stiles had hoped no one had noticed. 

When Derek speaks up again, it's softer. Concerned, even. "You are jumpy and not sleeping much again." 

"I - How... Stop invading my personal smells, okay?" Stiles grouses, rubbing his arms to get rid of the chill. He hates to be robbed of his privacy. "I don't want to talk about it." 

"What's wrong?" Derek insists anyway.

"I don't know!" Stiles mutters. He doesn't know anything.

"You think something's wrong? Is someone following you?" 

Stiles supposes he'll put this conversation to rest quicker if he answers.

"I think. I'm not sure. Maybe? Can you sense someone?" 

That would be a relief, in fact.

"No," Derek says, decisively.

And there goes that hope. "That was awfully fast," Stiles snarks.

"As I said, I noticed you looking back," Derek says.

"So?" 

"So I followed you. Tried to find a tail." 

Maybe it makes sense in Derek's world, but it makes Stiles absolutely furious all of a sudden.

"Jesus, maybe it's you I saw, then? Did you think about that?" 

"No, no, I've only done it this week, and you've been checking behind you for weeks," Derek protests, defensive.

"And?" 

Derek is not looking at him. "Stiles..." 

"And!!!" Stiles yells. "Who's following me?" 

Derek winces. "No one."

The bottom drops off his gut, making him dizzy. "What?"

"No one, Stiles. I'm sorry." 

But that can't be, because if there is absolutely no one, not even a creature…

"Maybe it didn't happen when you were there, because you scared it away," Stiles argues.

"There was no scent, no one following, and you still checked." 

"You've said it yourself, I've been doing it a lot." 

"But you get goose bumps sometimes," Derek says. "Like a minute ago." 

"Yeah." 

"That happened while I was following you." 

The goose bumps are when Stiles is so sure he's not imagining things. 

"I don't know what is going on," Stiles confesses, hating how his voice wavers.

"Did you speak with Deaton?" Derek asks. 

It makes Stiles pause. He'd thought about it. "You think it could be something... something like our kind of trouble?" 

"I don't know," Derek says, with a shrug. "Maybe." 

Stiles would love being able to tell if Derek is lying right now just to make him feel better.

They get to the Jeep, get in, and Stiles drives them back to town in silence. Suddenly the feeling is there again, oppressive, and Stiles feels as if he's going to puke. 

"Stiles," Derek says softly, even puts a hand on his knee. 

Derek knows he's losing it and Stiles hates to be so vulnerable. He grips the wheel, tries to breathe deeply. There's nothing behind them, why does it keep happening? 

There's suddenly something up front, though, a cat that darts out on the road and it's instinct to veer to his right to avoid it, even if he knows better. Stiles pumps the gas instead of the breaks and in the next moment the car hits a tree, stopping their course brutally. Derek is slammed against the dashboard while Stiles hits the steering wheel, and it's just as good they are wearing their seatbelts because he's pretty sure they'd have been ejected.

Everything is still, Derek too, and Stiles would worry but then Derek groans, coming to. He'll be all right, Stiles thinks as he laughs hysterically. His friend is going to be okay even if he fucked up because he's a goddamn werewolf. The man is more cat than werewolf at this point, in fact, but one day Derek's luck will run out. 

"You okay?" Stiles asks, insanely grateful nonetheless for werewolf healing. 

"Yeah. You?" Derek asks, twisting his neck until it cracks ominously; it makes Stiles wince. 

"I'm fine," Stiles says. "Sorry," he adds. 

"Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"Yeah. Just bruised," Stiles says, and with a hard shove of his shoulder he manages to unjam his door. He jumps down on the ground, and grimaces as he sees how the car is almost imbedded in the tree. 

"Shit," he curses. 

He hopes it's not dead for good. Stiles bends to get his left side mirror on the ground and it's cracked with a spider web pattern, shattered. Stiles' about to throw it in the back of the Jeep when he glances in it once more and yelps, letting it fall on the ground. 

"What?" Derek asks, worried and immediately by his side. 

Stiles is watching the woods now, his heart hammering so fast and hard in his chest, he's afraid it will come out and run away. 

"I saw..." 

Derek whips around too, scans the forest. After a minute of concentration he looks back at Stiles, biting his lips. It's sad, worried, close to pity. 

"I can't hear or see anything," he says. At least Derek sounds apologetic. 

Stiles bends down, grabbing the mirror again. Surely it was a fluke, some residual shock. He holds it like before, so it takes the forest behind him and his hands start shaking. 

Fuck. 

Derek senses his distress because he's fallen into a semi-crouch, defensive. 

"Look," Stiles says, voice wobbly. Please, please, let Derek see it too. 

Derek approaches, glances in the mirror and when he tenses up and growls, Stiles sags in relief.

There is a [shadow](http://www.flickr.com/photos/15580898@N02/3543549383) in the middle of the mirror, between them and the tree line: dark, powerful, a man with his arms crossed menacingly. He's not moving, just observing. It should be terrifying but it's the best thing Stiles has ever seen. 

Because if Derek sees it too, he's not crazy.

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warning, with spoilers for the ficlet: be aware that the story depicts feelings of paranoia and anxiety, that are indirectly the cause of a mild car accident (no one is seriously hurt). The ending validates/relieves the protagonist. The picture gives an overall feeling of menace/distress. Read/look at the picture with your self care in mind, please.
> 
> Many thanks to the lovely [Jaydblu](http://jaydblu.livejournal.com) for the beta!
> 
> Title taken from "Shadows of the night" by Pat Benatar
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
